Richie Ryan and the Quest for the Holy Grail
by Golden-Sama
Summary: [Hiatus]. While Mac is away, Richie will play! Richie is in charge of the barge but when he gets involved with a beautiful girl and the immortal Arthur, and his age old quest for the Cup of Christ, will Rich bite off more than he can chew?
1. Richard Ryan, Man of Town

**Highlander**

**Richie Ryan and the Holy Grail**

**Chapter I - Richard Ryan, Man of Town**

**Rated**: PG-13 for Immortal Violence, Profanity, and Mature Situations

**Summary**: While Mac is away, Richie will play! Richie is in charge of the barge but when he gets involved with a beautiful girl and the immortal Arthur, and his age old quest for the Cup of Christ, will Rich bite off more than he can chew? 

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Highlander® or any characters. They are registered Trade Mark™ of George Widen and Davis/Panzer™. Nor do I own Arthur Penndragon. This story was written strictly out of the fact I enjoy writing and I enjoy watching Highlander®. I am making no money off of this, only reviews.

Storyline, Plot, Jacquelyn Perault© and Aardwolf Ironsmith©, are all my property. Do not steal.

----

"And you're not to have any parties on the barge."  
  
"Okay Mac."

"And if you get into a fight please don't take their head on the barge, the police are already suspicious from last month."  
  
"Okay Mac!"

"And if you bring a girl over stay out of my room."

"_Okay_ Mac!"

Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod had owned that old barge in Paris for many, many years. And looking to all of his friends, he trusted Richie the most, with the possible exception of Conner, but that was a whole other story.

  
Still, it made the 400 year old Scotsman nervous to leave the barge in Richie's care for God-only-knows how long. He had go make up with Amanda, his on-again-off-again girlfriend of a couple centuries.

Recently Amanda and Duncan had spent a romantic weekend away in Greece, the most romantic weekend they'd spent in almost a century, and afterwards, despite their repeated discussions on the topic, Amanda had begs Mac to marry her.

_"Come on __Duncan__, we could just do it for 100 years?"  
  
"Amanda." The Scot tried to explain. "How long do you think it'll be before we go for each other's head?"_

_Amanda smiled happily. "At least 101 years, which is why we only stay married for 100 silly!"  
  
MacLeod couldn't help but laugh. "And how long will it be before you clean out my bank account?"_

_Amanda smirked and wrapped her arms around the Scots neck. "But dear __Duncan__, I'm going to do that anyway."_

_"No Amanda."  
  
"Fine." She said shortly._

_  
"Amanda, hold on--"  
  
"I don't want to hear it Mr. MacLeod."_

And after the fight Amanda had refused to speak to him. Normally Duncan would have enjoyed a break from her, but this time his nagging four-hundred-year-old sense of honor made him feel like apologizing.

This meant he had to find Amanda, and that meant leaving Richie at the barge alone. While he would rather have Richie watching the barge than Methos (who would undoubtedly throw out his opera CD's and stock up on enough beer for the next hundred years) he still knew Richie had a knack for finding trouble.

"Mac man." Richie said, as he grabbed the Scot's suitcases and threw them out the door of the barge and down onto the ramp that led back to shore. "I love you man, you know that, but if you don't get outta here I'm gonna scream."

MacLeod laughed and nodded. "Alright, just . . . be in one piece when I get back, okay?"  
  
"Sure Mac." Richie said brightly.

  
"I was talking to mah barge." MacLeod joked.

Richie let out a long, fake laugh as he watched Mac walk away. Once he heard the sound of the car driving away the young immortal jumped up to his feet and gave a great sigh of relief. Of course, Richie knew that Duncan MacLeod was the greatest thing that ever happened to him in his life, but sometimes Mac's uptight Boy Scout charm got boring.

After a hour of getting ready, which mean gelling his hair, slipping into a one of Mac's nicer suits, and tucking his sword hidden away, Richie Ryan, or Richard Redstone as his passport read, was ready to get out to town and find himself a nice French girlfriend.

  
What else would a boy his age with access to Mac's vast wealth and his wonderful barge be doing on a Saturday night in Pairs?

----  
  


Fifteen minutes later Richie was standing in the office of a car dealer, not one of those sleazy, greasy haired car dealers who sold and rented crap at high prices, but one of those suit and ties car dealers who sold great stuff at unbearable prices.

  
"Can I help you Mister . . .?"

The car dealer was an older blond man with a thin mustache and he had the look of a high bred millionaire crossed with a low class motel clerk.

"Redstone, Richard Redstone." He responded. "And I'd like to look at your Ferrari's, for rent."  
  


The man gave Richie a look over and sneered, he could see right through the neat hair, nice suit, and Mac's old cologne. "They're expensive."  
  
Richie gave a big fake smile. "Yeah I bet they are. And I want to look at them."

"Very well." The dealer sneered once more. "See anything you like?"

Richie looked out the window of the tiny office at the car lot and suddenly something caught his eye. A brand new red Ferrari, sun gleaming off its gorgeous red hood, the tires were black and shiny and truly elegant.   
  
And next to the car was the most beautiful woman Richie had ever seen. Her long blonde hair down the middle of her back combined with a body to kill for instant hooked Richie's eyes.

"Oh yes." Richie said in response to the car dealer. "I see something I like."

----

"I'm Richard Redstone." Richie introduced himself as he made his way over to the girl and the Ferrari. Taking her hand in his and placing a kiss on it he then said: "And you're the most beautiful girl I've ever met."

The blonde laughed and gave a tut, tut "Now Mr. Redstone, you can afford such nice clothes but you use such a cheep pick up line."

Richie laughed back and casually spoke again. "Well most girls say my good looks make up for my bad lines."  
  
"Ooh." The blonde said with a smirk. "Well I'll be the judge of that. Jacquelyn Perault."

Richie smiled at Jacquelyn and then turned his attention to the car. "Did you plan on renting this, Miss. Perault?"

"Oh no." She smirked. "I planned on buying it, and I think a cute boy like you can call me Jackie."

It was Richie's turn to smirk. "So you do admit I'm cute."

"Maybe." 

  
"Then maybe you'd like to go get something to drink."

"Sounds like fun." Jacquelyn said.

  
"Well great." Richie clapped his hands together. "Then shall we take your car or mine?"  
  
"That depends." Jacquelyn smirked. "On which of us buys the car first."

Richie smirked broadly, his weekend had just started and already he was having fun. Oh yes, it's safe to say Richie liked Jackie from the start.

----

Five hours later, after a day out on the town the Ferrari (which Jackie had bought and was driving) had arrived outside of a large mansion just outside of Paris. Richie was amazed at the size of the house. Here he was spending Mac's money pretending to be rich, and the girl he picked up was the real deal.

"Would you like to come in?" Jackie asked, looking over at Richie.

Richie thought about it for a second, and only for a second before he said. "Okay."

Suddenly Richie felt a tingling, buzzing in the back of his neck. Silently cursing his bad luck the young immortal looked around for the source of the buzz. He thought for a moment that it was Mac, who somehow found out he wasn't watching the barge, but when he saw a tall, reddish-blonde mad appear with a long sword in his hand he knew it wasn't the Scot.

The man wore a old, weather stained black trench coat. His red-blonde hair, almost the same color as Richie's, was cut evenly and neatly. His face was unblemished and he had the look of a old man who retained his youth. A sort of regal look that Kings and Queen had.

"Jacquelyn, who is he?" The man said in a even more regal tone, much like the kind Kings and Queens used.

"This is Richie." Jackie said looking up at the immortal. "Richie you didn't tell me you were a immortal."  
  
Richie fidgeted nervously. "It's not a good way to start a date, most mortals will think you're nuts."

 The regal man walked over to the car and Richie could see the sword even better. It was a beautiful blade, the hilt was carved out of what looked like gold, but Richie had learned enough about swords that he knew it was most likely steel or iron that had been coated in gold. The blade itself was long, not quite as long as a Claymore, but about the same size as Mac's Katana. The blade too was coated it gold, but it was peeled and scratched in many places, from battle, and some of the silver steel shone through.

Many rubies and diamonds garlanded the hilt and the hand guard and Richie had to admit it was a beautiful sword. 

"Arthur." The man said. "Arthur Penndragon, and you are?"  
  


"Huh? Oh, Richie Redsto--, Richie Ryan." 

Jackie looked up at the man called Arthur and smiled. "He's my new boyfriend."

Arthur gave Richie a look over and then sighed. "You're call Jacquelyn, but it is not smart to get involved with a immortal."

Jackie rolled her eyes. "I got adopted by one, I may as well date one."

Richie felt his cheeks redden as Arthur and Jackie talked about him like he wasn't sitting next to them, but all at once Arthur smiled and bowed to Richie.

  
"Well Richard, stay for dinner if you like. I'm having some guest, though."

Richie nodded back. "Thank you."

----

Arthur's dinner table was long and square. Richie and Jackie sat across from one another at the far right end, but Arthur sat far down on the left side at the very edge. Richie thought this was weird, but then again he had already guessed that Arthur was a older immortal and this was probably the way to eat dinner eight hundred years ago, or however old the man was.

While Richie and Jackie chatted away and played footsie under the table, the door bell occasionally rung, Richie would feel the buzz, and soon a immortal would take a place at the table. It seamed they knew where to sit, because the first one who showed up (a black haired man who looked to be about fifty or so) sat down in the middle of the table, while fifteen minutes later a redhead who looked to be in his twenties sat down farther down the line, closer to Richie and Jackie.

Soon more and more had joined them. A fat gray haired man, a well built blonde who Richie thought he'd seen in the Olympics a few years ago, a brown haired, brown beaded man with a hearty laugh who went straight for the beer, and finally Richie felt the buzz yet again.

  
"How many people are coming?" He whispered to Jackie. He felt uncomfortable being in a room full of strange immortals that were all much older and more experienced than him. Jackie shrugged.

"Dad does this every hundred years, and I'm only twenty-two, so no clue."

"And I thought the table was supposed to be round." 

Richie could hear a man's voice talking to Arthur from the hallway, and somehow Richie felt the voice was familiar. He didn't know from where, though.

"Everyone." Arthur said. "At last Conner had decided to join us, and I believe that means we're all here."

Richie turned around to see a man who looked to be in his thirties, he wore a old tan trench coat. The man spoke with a strange accent that Richie had recognized.

  
"Hey, er, you're Mac's uncle, or something, right?" Richie couldn't help but call out. He knew it wasn't his place, but he was sure that man was the same one he'd met a few years ago when he first met Mac, and Slan Quince.

"Richie Ryan." Conner MacLeod said with a laugh. "Well Walt was right, it is a small world."  
  
"Walt?" Richie wondered aloud.

  
"Walter Disney, friend of mine." Conner said. "Completely stole my cartoon mouse idea, the bastard."   
  
Conner broke off into laughter as did many of the other guest around the table. Finally it was Arthur who asked Conner the question Richie had known was coming.

  
"You know him MacLeod?"  
  


Conner nodded. "He's Duncan's student, thought I don't know him personally."

Arthur then turned to Richie with a new look in his eyes and a strange smirk on his face.

  
"Duncan's student you say? You know what that means Conner."  
  
"No." Conner said flatly. "He can't join, he isn't part of this."  
  
"Neither are you." The fat, gray haired man said. "You're only here because you were Ramirez's student and he was one of us."  
  


Conner narrowed his eyes. "But I am here because Ramirez is dead, for him to join both I and Duncan would have to be dead."

Richie had no clue what the older immortals were talking about, but when the very idea of Mac's death came up, he became very uncomfortable.

"Nonsense!" Arthur said. "We asked Duncan to join us, he just turned us down. We may as well ask him!"  
  
"Arthur no." Conner said sternly. "Duncan would not like that."

Normally Richie wouldn't have minded as much at the conversation, but he _was_ on a date, and from the way Conner spoke it made him sound like he was too young to be making his own choices. And while he looked eighteen, he was older. A little.  
  
"Hey." Richie stood up. "I dunno what'cha all are talking about, but I think I can decide for my self."

Conner sighed and sat down, knowing what Richie would say.

  
"Richie." Arthur spoke with that same grin. "How'd you like to be part of the greatest legend of all time?"

  
Richie laughed. "And what legend is that?"  
  
"Why." Arthur spoke, that grin becoming even wider and odder. "The quest for the Holy Grail, of course."

-------------

**Konnichiwa!**

Well folks, I dunno if anyone's gonna read this or not, but I've been addicted to the Highlander TV series lately and after reading those excellent stories by Richiefic I just had to take a stab at this and make my own Highlander story.

Now since I'm going to be writing this at the same time as my Witch Hunter Robin story, I may not update as often as I'd like, but still, quite a lot.

That is, if you want me to.

  
So if you want more, then tell me so!  
  


Ja Ne

  
~ Sir Golden-sama


	2. Explanations and Explosions

**Highlander**

**Richie Ryan and the Holy Grail**

**Chapter II - Explanations and Explosions**

**Rated**: PG-13 for Immortal Violence, Profanity, and Mature Situations

**Summary**: While Mac is away, Richie will play! Richie is in charge of the barge but when he gets involved with a beautiful girl and the immortal Arthur, and his age old quest for the Cup of Christ, will Rich bite off more than he can chew? 

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Highlander® or any characters. They are registered Trade Mark™ of George Widen and Davis/Panzer™. Nor do I own Arthur Penndragon. This story was written strictly out of the fact I enjoy writing and I enjoy watching Highlander®. I am making no money off of this, only reviews.

Storyline, Plot, Jacquelyn Perault© and Aardwolf Ironsmith©, are all my property. Do not steal.

----

At first Richie laughed, sitting there at the end of the great banquet table, listening to a bunch of immortals older than him chat, and suddenly being invited to go after the Holy Grail.  
  
"You mean like Monty Python?" Richie asked. That caused Arthur to laugh and shake his head.

  
"God I hope not." Arthur smiled. "I like you Richard; you've got a sense of youth the rest of us all lost. No dear boy, I mean a hunt I hold every hundred years since the sixth century, A.D."

Richie was suddenly both intrigued his boyish sense of danger. "Go on." He said.

Arthur smirked again. "You see boy, back in the Sixth Century I was pretty popular, being King and all. And while most of those stories in the movies are all fake." He paused. "Though I did pull my sword out of a stone, I was a tad drunk and --, well perhaps I'll save that story for later."

Richie suddenly realized that this immortal either was pretending to be, or really was King Arthur from all those stories he had read, and by read Richie meant gone out and rented the movies.

"Richard, as I was saying, while most of the stories about myself are just stories I made up when I was drunk. However, I really did once go look for the Holy Grail."  
  


Richie was becoming interested, while also a bit confused.

"Look, every hundred years I and my knights, or the heirs of my knights who have lost their heads continue that hunt."

  
"Wait." Richie asked. "You mean all of your knights are immortals?"   
  
"Some of them." Arthur said, pointing around the table. "Thought only two of us are still alive after fifteen hundred years. Myself and Ector here." Arthur pointed to the fat, gray haired man.

The man, Ector, nodded his head to Richie and returned to the bowl of soup that sat on the table before him.

"This is Remus." He pointed to the black haired man who looked to be in his fifties, who bowed his head politely to Richie. "And Robin" he pointed to the red haired boy who sat near Richie. "Morris." He pointed to the brown bearded man with the hearty laugh. "Erich." He pointed at the blonde. "And I think you know Conner."

Richie nodded to each of the knights in turned, before he turned back to where Arthur stood.

"Richie, every hundred years for the last fifteen hundred years we have hunted after the Cup that Christ drink from at the last supper. The true cup of Kings."

"Why?" Richie asked.

Arthur blinked. "Well, back in the sixth century we didn't have much to do. It was always one quest or another, but they always ended too soon. So we went on the quest for the Holy Grail. To this day we still can't find it Richard, and that's why we've made a game out of it. We all travel together every hundred years. If one of us dies, his student takes his place."

Jackie was fidgeting next to him, she had brought Richie home because she liked him, and now he was thinking about going off on a quest with her adopted father. She sighed, the date was going horrible.

"Look Richard." Arthur said at last. "I don't like to dwell on long explanations, so now you can join us, or you can return to wherever it is you live."  
  
Richie squirmed, he had a question but it wasn't a good one to ask. "But, well I came here with Jackie an--"  
  
"Richard." Conner said quietly. "It is not a good idea to suggest staying here alone with his daughter."

Richie laughed half-heatedly, hoping it would come out as a joke. And while Arthur was the kind of man who enjoyed laughing, good hearty laughing. But he wasn't laughing now.

"So what say you?" Arthur suddenly said, ignoring the events that had just transpired. "Will you join us Richard?"  
  
Richie turned his eyes around the table, many thoughts on his mind.  
  
On the one hand, it would be dangerous, and he'd be dealing with immortals that were much older than him. The look in Jackie's eyes told him she didn't want him to go, and he knew Mac would hate the idea if he found out.

Then again, it sounded like fun. And if by some chance he did return to the barge with the Cup of Christ himself, he was sure that Mac would be much more proud than angry.

"I'll think about it."

----

A black Mercedes pulled up outside of the Mansion of Arthur Perault and his daughter Jacquelyn. But the person inside the Mercedes knew who Arthur really was. After the car slowed to a stop two men exited it. One of them was tall, his hair was neatly cut, and black as night. He wore a black silk shirt, a very expensive one, and a pair of equally costly pants.

The second man was shorter; he wore an old camouflage jacket and matching pants. Blood stains and bullet holes covered the jacket. It was the type issued in Vietnam, and the man who wore it had served there.

  
Of course he hadn't aged a day since then. He had bulked up more, and the jacket was a worse fit than it had been before, but he didn't care. He kept that jacket for thirty years. It made him remember the war. The smell of blood and the sound of screams, he had to know that smell whenever he killed.

"Alright then." The man in the camouflage jacket said. "Let's get ready, shall we?"

The man in the silk shirt sighed and reached back into the car, where he pulled a long Claymore sword. It was beautifully crafted and by far an antique.

"No, no, no." The Camouflage jacketed man said. "Get the guns out of the trunk, will you?"  
  
"It's against the rules." The man in the silk shirt said. The other man laughed.

"Do you want Arthur's head or not?"  
  


The man in the silk shirt sighed and nodded. "Fine. What's you're plan?"  
  


The man in the camouflage smirked broadly. "I have a few boxes of wine in the trunk. We're going to make some Russia Cocktails and smoke them out of the house. Once they're out, we shoot them, and once they're all down, we cut ourselves some heads."

The silk shirted man had to admit, it would work. There was just one problem. "Don't shoot Arthur. I want him to be awake when his life ends."  
  
The second man merely shrugged. "Whatever. You can fight him unarmed if you want, as long as I get paid. Now get the guns out of the trunk."

----

Arthur and Conner stood in the study of the house. The once King of Britain and the Scottish Warrior were standing around a small table. They were in the midst of a reasonable, yet heated discussion.

"It is Richard's choice." The once-King said simply.

  
"And it will be your head when Duncan finds out." Conner replied quietly. The British man laughed.

  
"I doubt it. You always described Duncan as an understanding person."

Conner shook his head. "He is. Duncan is a good lad. But he is protective of Richie, as I was for Rachel."

Arthur remembered all too the occasion when he met Rachel, the adopted daughter of Conner MacLeod. He had said some things that had made Rachel, who had been just a child at the time, cry. And Conner had not taken it well.

"Well it is the boy's choice, one way or another. Besides, this year we have an even better clue." Arthur said with a firm smile. 

"What?" Conner asked skeptically.

"A letter that a friend sent to me." Arthur said, and with that he reached into his jacket and pulled out an old piece of paper. Conner was no expert on dates, but he could tell that the paper in the elder immortal's hand was much older than both of them.

"Darius sent it to me a year before he died." Arthur said. "He was a good man."

Conner nodded. "Yes, Duncan knew him better than I did. What is it?"

Arthur's face broke into a wide smile. "This my good man is a map made by Joseph after the Crucifixion. It's a map of the road he took. And as the story goes, he took the Grail with him."

Conner looked down at the aged and worn paper and his eyes scanned it quickly. He studied it for a long time before he finally spoke, and when he did it was in a quiet voice.

  
"This looks real."

Arthur laughed. "Darius wouldn't have sent it to me if it was fake! I was in Berlin at the time; I wondered why he didn't just wait till I returned to Paris but when I learned what it was I knew. This is it Conner. I've waited years for this quest, our last quest."

Conner shook his head. "You should not dwell so much on this my friend. It could be --"  
  
Suddenly Conner stopped speaking. His natural warrior instincts that had been building for over 400 years kicked in. He heard a sound that worried him, while he did not know what it was, he knew it was trouble.

  
In a flash the Scotsman had whirled the Katana of Juan Sanchez Villa-Lobos Ramirez from beneath his jacket and held it fast in his hands. Arthur took the message and withdrew his decorated broad sword.   
  
Then the window shattered and something fell to the floor. Conner didn't get a chance to see what it was, but he knew it was on fire.

----

Richie was sitting in the living room, his arm around Jackie as the two of them spoke about his possible joining of her father's quest. She had only known Richie for a few hours, that was true, but she liked him very much.

"I dunno Jackie, it sounds like fun. Goin' out with a bunch of old immortals. Besides, maybe I'll pick up a few tricks to keep my head on." 

  
Jackie sighed. "I know, but still--"

Their speaking suddenly was drowned out by a loud noise from the next room. Richie stood and ran to the door, quickly, he opened it and found Conner and Arthur lying on the floor, their bodies on fire.   
  
"Jackie, get upstairs!"  
  
He yelled as he reached down for Conner's katana. He had left his own sword in the backseat of the Ferrari and he had a bad feeling that he'd need one.

He felt the buzz then and he prepared himself, but it was only the fat, gray haired Ector, who held an Ivanhoe sword in his hand.

  
"Hurry!"  
  
He vanished back into the darkness of the hallways and Richie wondered what was happening. Then he felt a second buzz, it was coming from outside the wall. Richie quickly ran to the door and opened it, only to find a broken wine bottle on the porch and flames burning around it.

  
"Hell!"

Suddenly Richie saw a man in a black silk shirt. He held a Claymore aloft in his hands and wore an evil smirk on his face.

"You must be a new one." He said with a smirk. "But you'll soon be dead."

Richie held the Katana in the stance he saw Mac take so much. He wasn't as skilled as the Scotsman, but he'd still fight.

The silk shirted man swung with his Claymore, but Richie was faster than him, blocking the massive attack. But before Richie could strike back himself, the other man had regained his footing.

And yet the fight was to be over before any of them had a chance to strike again. Three shots rung out in the night and Richie Ryan felt his life drain away once again. It wasn't the first time he'd been killed with a gun.

The man in the silk shirt turned around to where his camouflaged partner stood, holding an AK-47 assault rifle in his hand.

  
"We're on a time schedule." He said simply as he turned back to the mansion, which was now being engulfed in flames.

---------------

Sorry for the delay between chapters, not my usual speed, but I promise to have the next one up as soon as I can.  
  
Thanks for the reviews guys, I'll be making more story soon.


	3. Fights and Flashbacks

**Highlander**

**Richie Ryan and the Holy Grail**

**Chapter III - Fights and Flashbacks **

**Rated**: PG-13 for Immortal Violence, Profanity, and Mature Situations

**Summary**: While Mac is away, Richie will play! Richie is in charge of the barge but when he gets involved with a beautiful girl and the immortal Arthur, and his age old quest for the Cup of Christ, will Rich bite off more than he can chew? 

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Highlander® or any characters. They are registered Trade Mark™ of George Widen and Davis/Panzer™. Nor do I own Arthur Penndragon. This story was written strictly out of the fact I enjoy writing and I enjoy watching Highlander®. I am making no money off of this, only reviews.

Storyline, Plot, Jacquelyn Perault© and Aardwolf Ironsmith©, are all my property. Do not steal.

Special Thanks to Richiefic for helping me correct most of those many annoying little mistakes I usually make, and helping me out with some plot holes.

  
Also Thanks to everyone who reviewed these first two chapters, especially SoutherChickie and her helpful review. You'll notice those six bottles of wine changed into a couple boxes of bottles.

----

Conner MacLeod woke up to the smell of burning flesh and the nagging pain that flooded his body. Pushing himself up to his feet he looked around, though the Quickening had healed his body and revived him from death, he was still filled with the heat of the nearby flames and the sting of death still hung on his skin.

Glancing around the burnt out room he saw Arthur's body not far away, the yellow tongues of flames still licking his flesh swiftly as the elder immortal lay lifeless. The Scot peered around quickly for his katana, only to find it missing.

MacLeod pulled himself up to his knees and threw off his trench coat. It had been destroyed in the fire and he needed a new one anyway. Pulling himself all the way up to his legs he walked around the burning room, and found the old English broad sword of Arthur lying on the ground next to his still burning body.

  
Conner had been used to fighting with a katana since he inherited his from Ramirez, but he could take a head with a steak knife if he had to. He grabbed the sword firmly and then he ran towards the front door.   
  
Peering out into the yard he saw the lifeless bodies of Erich, Remus and Richie. Lying sprawled out down by their feet were a Chinese Tai Chi sword that had belonged to Remus, a Spanish Rapier that Erich had prided himself in, and the Ivory Dragon Katana that had been custom made for Conner's teacher, and swiped by Richie.

Standing over the bodies was a man that the Scot did not recognize. He wore an old tattered camouflage suit, in one hand he held an AK-47, a very dangerous assault rifle made by Russia, and a long machete hung from his belt. 

Conner did not like the idea of fighting an immortal, who wielded both gun and blade, but he'd done it before and if he survived the encounter he'd undoubtedly do it again. 

Yet Conner was no fool, though he had been called one on several occasions. He'd also been called a bugger, a bastard, a baka, a jerk, a sword-wielding maniac, and so many more things in so many more languages and cultures that he didn't remember them all. And since he wasn't the majority of these things, he knew that one man couldn't set fire to a mansion this big.   
  


And sure enough, only moments later a second man in a silk shirt appeared. He was dragging the body of Morris out onto the lawn to join the other three immortals already lined up. Conner did not like the look of this.

Then he watched as Erich began to stir. The man in the camouflage grabbed him by his shirt collar and hoisted him up with an evil smirk. Then he dropped the assault rifle and drew the long machete from his belt.

"I'll take this one if that's fine with you." The camouflage man said.

"All I want is Arthur. And I still can't find him."

Erich was awakening now; he blinked twice and looked around with blurry eyes. Suddenly he noticed the man in black and his eyes opened wide.

  
"You!"

The man in black smirked and bowed a low, sarcastic bow.  
  
"Indeed good sir! Tis I." He said in a mocking tone. The silk shirted man lifted his Claymore sword and allowed it to rest on his shoulder. "I'd kill you Erich, but you're much too nasty for the idea of taking your head and your power to have any value to one such as myself."

The second man, the one in camouflage laughed and pressed his machete to the blonde immortal's neck.

"Well luckily I'm not so shallow."

Conner watched as the head fell from Erich's shoulders, neatly severed. 

"Go find Arthur, the police will be here soon and I want to leave when this Quickening is over." The camouflage man spoke as a white fog began to engulf his body.

Conner watched the man in black walk back into the house. He didn't recognize either of the men, but somehow the Scot knew the silk shirted one with the Claymore was no stranger to Arthur or his knights.

Watching as lightning began to flash dangerously around the camouflaged warrior; Conner leapt up from behind his hiding place and gripped Excalibur tightly in his hand. He was most afraid of the immortal's gun than anything.  
  
Guns were cheating. And if his foe was to cheat, Conner could play that game.

As the camouflaged man screamed and fell to his knees, lightning swarming over his body, Conner walked over slowly with a sneer pressed firmly on his lips. He waited until the quickening stopped completely before pressing the sword of Arthur against the man's neck.

  
"Who are you?" Conner asked in a all-too-serious tone.

The man in the camouflage looked up and his mouth broke off into a wide, toothy smirk.

"After my head are we?" The man joked. "You'll be dead before the blade even pierces my skin."

Conner's eyes flashed down to the man's hands, one of them was plastered out on the grass before him, but the second one had reached into his pocket and pulled a Berretta pistol, which was aimed at the Scot's stomach.

Conner's eyes then moved to behind the man, to where Richie lay. Duncan's student began to stir and the eldest MacLeod allowed a smirk to form on the corner of his lips.

  
Conner waited until he saw Richie's eyes open. The boy looked around and took in the situation unfolding around him and then his eyes meet Conner's. The young immortal was about to speak when the elder Scotsman drew his sword back and swung.

  
The man in the camouflage fired three shots into Conner's chest and ducked his head down. The broad sword smashed into the side of his head, but between the duck and Conner's being shot, it wasn't enough of a swing to sever the head, only enough to cause a long gash to appear over the man's cheek and ear.

Richie suddenly realized why Conner had done such a foolish thing, and in a flash the youngster grabbed the katana that lay and his feet. The man in camouflage heard the sounds and spun around, but it was too late. Richie impaled the katana deep in the man's chest, which not only caused him to drop the pistol, but also brought a swift death over him and added yet another blood stain to the jacket.

Richie knew enough by now to know he should leave the katana in his enemy's chest until it was time to take his head, but the last thing Richie needed right now was a Quickening. He remembered there being at least one more person here, the man with the Claymore.

Grabbing the fallen Excalibur where Conner had dropped it, Richie moved over to the Scotsman and tapped his cheek for a moment.

  
"Hey, Hey, Mac, er, Other Mac, get up man."

There was no response so, checking one last time that the katana was still buried deep in the camouflaged man's chest, Richie scampered off towards the house. He didn't see Arthur anywhere, nor did he see Jackie. He gulped. Arthur was Immortal, and being fifteen hundred years old Richie knew he could take care of himself, but Jackie wasn't one of them, and he was worried about her.

Richie looked around the house for a moment, it was hard to navigate since he didn't know the mansion well at all, and it was still burning from the flaming wine bottles. He remembered telling her to get upstairs, and he prayed she had disobeyed him. Richie didn't know what was going on when he told her that. True, she'd be safer from evil immortals, but the fire could collapse the roof and kill her.

"Richie!"  
  
Suddenly Richie's search was cut short as the blonde threw herself into his arms, embracing him in a tight hug. She had tears running down her eyes and buried her head into his shoulder.

  
"Hey, it's okay Jackie. I'm here."  
  
She then broke away and a look of terror was clearly seen in her eyes.

"My father!"

  
Richie shrugged. "I'm sure he's fine Jackie, he's an immortal, and a really old one too. He can fight."  
  
Jackie's eyes fell on the gold coated broad sword in Richie's hand and she looked up at him. "That is his sword."  
  


Richie closed his eyes as he realized that he found the sword in Conner's hands, and he didn't know where Conner got it.

  
"Hey, I'm sure he's fine."  
  


Suddenly a sound was heard in the next room. Richie held up the sword and pushed Jackie behind him. He ran to the door and found it ajar. Inside he could see Arthur lying against the wall. He looked as if he was just waking from sleep or perhaps a mortal death rather.

Standing above the English King was the Claymore wielding man in the silk shirt who had attacked him before. Richie felt a horrible jolt in the deepest pits of his stomach. Arthur had no sword.

"Open your eyes, milord." The Claymore wielding man said in a sarcastic tone. Arthur lifted his head and the expression on his face was a mixture of horror and surprise.

  
"Mordred. I thought you'd be dead by now." 

Arthur had lost his regal tone and replaced it with a kind of scorn that Richie's sarcastic mouth would likely be home to.

"Hello father." Mordred spoke softly.

  
"Don't you dare call me that." Arthur spat. The scorn was gone and replaced with genuine anger. "You are neither my student, nor my heir any longer. You are a bastard who deserves a thousand painful deaths and an eternity in the darkest depths of hell!"

Mordred laughed. "Father, you were always so funny with your jokes. You raised me as your son, and your son I am."

Arthur's eyes took on a new dimension of hatred beyond anything Richie Ryan had seen before in his life.

"Arthur!" 

Richie burst through the door, causing the man, Mordred, to turn around. He sneered and swung his Claymore out, but Ryan was faster and countered with the broad sword.

The blades clashed against one another a second time, and then Richie lashed out trying to slash the wrist of his enemy in a move that Mac had taught him, but Mordred was quicker and he slashed a deep gash into Richie's shoulders from behind, causing the boy to fall to his knees.

"And who is he father?" Mordred asked scornfully. "A new student? A new son?" Mordred's eyes fell on Jackie who stood at the door with a look of horror on his face and his sneer grew even more. "Or are you raising a daughter now?"

It was then, as Richie sat on his knees with blood oozing from his back and his head pounding with pain that he imagined Mac bursting through the doors with his Katana drawn. He could hear the Scot saying some sarcastic comment and then leaping into battle with the scoundrel. He could see Duncan taking the head from Mordred and saving Richie's life, as he had done in the past.

  
But Richie knew that wouldn't happen. He knew Duncan was in New York right now. He wondered what Duncan would do when he came home to find Richie headless at the hands of Mordred. He knew Mac would hunt the silk shirted warrior for a thousand years if necessary, or more. 

It was then Richie realized he hadn't been thinking these things, he had been dreaming them. He had not been cut on the back and fallen to his knees; he had been cut on the back and killed momentarily. He opened his eyes and stared up at the roof of the charred mansion.

  
"Richie!"  
  
Jackie was once again at his side. He looked up at her and blinked a couple times.

  
"What happened?"

Richie felt a powerful hand reach down and pick him up, and in a moment he stared face to face with Remus, the black haired man from the dinner table.

"Ah, Richard! You are awake."

Richie turned his head to see Arthur.

  
"What happened man? Where's that guy?"

"Gone." Arthur said simply. At first Richie thought he was dead, but he could tell from the somber look on Arthur's face that Mordred was still alive.

  
"I thought I was finished for sure." Richie said. "How did I-"

"Survive?" Arthur offered. "Well I grabbed him from behind before he could take your head. Technically it was against the rules of the game, but Mordred had already broken them."

Richie shook his head. "What happened to him, and what about that other guy-"  
  
"Police."   
  
Richie turned around to see Robin, the young redheaded knight sitting in a chair, a half-drunk bottle of wine in his hand. "They came in time to take Conner and that other guy's bodies away. It's been hell trying to explain what happened."

Richie nodded. He knew that police could be a real pain in the side.

It was then that all of the immortals became quiet, the buzz was drawing close. Many swords were pulled into many hands, but a moment later Conner entered the door with a sour look on his face.

"That damned morgue is cold." He complained. "And getting my sword back was a real pain."

Arthur shook his head and gave a small laugh, and then he asked the question everyone was thinking. "What about the other immortal?"

Conner's face grew grimmer at this. "The medical examiner worked on him first, so by the time I woke up he was gone. He left my sword and my clothes in the untouched and only took his things, I think that's a message Arthur."

The regal man nodded in agreement. "Oh yes, it was. Mordred ran at the first siren, so I cut my chest and acted like a victim. Police are much nicer to bleeding men than crazy men with swords."

Richie still couldn't understand some things. "Who were those guys?"

Arthur took a sip of his wine glass and then looked down at Richie. "That, Richard, was my first student. Mordred. I thought he died six hundred years ago. I loved that boy like he was my own son, but my crazy sister turned him against me. I stabbed him through the heart and he gave me the same consideration. Of course, we both survive, but I lost my kingdom then."

  
Arthur sighed as he remembered that day.

----

**Camelot Castle****, ****England****, 6th Century A.D.**

Arthur sat on his throne. The immortal King of Britain sat and looked out. He was a sad man. He had power, riches, and a kingdom that any king would kill for. Every last one of his citizens enjoyed life and enjoyed his rule. War was a thing of the past.  
  
And yet Arthur was not happy. The throne where his beautiful wife once sat on was empty. She had gone and left him for Lancelot, greatest of his knights. And his son was against him.

No, Mordred wasn't his son. Arthur had treated him like a son, but he was no son. A son wouldn't abandon his father and challenge his rule. A son wouldn't challenge his life.

Mordred had been found by Sir Galahad, one of his knights. Arthur knew what the boy was right away, a pre-immortal. Arthur took him on and raised him and then he made a mistake that many immortals lose their heads over.

He taught a pre-immortal how to fight, how to kill, how to take heads. Of course in this world you had to fight and kill, but you fought for King and Country, and you fought for Honor and God. You did not fight for yourself, you did not fight to take the heads of men to keep your own life.

Now the boy was a man, and now the man was an immortal, and that immortal Mordred wanted his first head to be the head of Arthur. The head of his mentor, the head of his friend. The head of his father.

The doors of the great hall of the great castle of Camelot opened and a man ran inside.

  
"Milord Arthur! Mordred is upon our gates and demands to see the King!"

Arthur looked down at his servant and sighed. "Then the King he shall see."

Arthur approached the gates and looked down to Mordred, who stood outside the gates alone. Arthur was atop the wall of Camelot, high in the air. He watched Mordred. He held only his lone Claymore in his hand, and his sneer was a broad one.

  
"So there art thee so-called King of all lands."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "And here art the bastard who betrays his king and country."

"A challenge hath been issued, Milord." Mordred sneered. "Does his grace accept?"

Arthur drew his sword. It was a beautiful sword, and it had become more beautiful since Arthur had it coated in the finest gold Camelot had. Now the King would fight with his sword and kill with it.

"Indeed his grace does accept."

A moment later Arthur climbed down the many steps of the side of the castle's walls. Then he crossed to the gate, which slowly lowered. He could see his foe standing outside.

"So the King comes calling thy challenge. I am honored."

"Your honor is worth naught here."

The two crossed swords. Blades struck one another, and slashes stung at the flesh of the King and his once-heir. Eyes watched the fight, many eyes. It was then that Arthur struck outward, and pierced the chest of Mordred. As his once-son fell, Mordred swung back, and cut the stomach of Arthur clean open. The Forever King, as he had once been called, fell next to his son.  
  
Both were to die on that black day.

----

**Present, ****Paris******

Richie listened intently as Arthur told the story and then sighed.

"Mordred took everything from me on that day. My kingdom, the life I had known since I was a boy. Of course, as the story goes the 'Great King Arthur would rise from the dead to defend Britain's shores against any enemy who would dare harm them.' Well I suppose that's true, I did do my part against Hitler." Arthur sighed once more. "Yet I will never again be a King."

Richie felt a quiet sort of pain in his stomach. Arthur had treated Mordred as a son, he had been his teacher, and the father Mordred never had. And then Mordred and Arthur had battled for each other's head.

Richie closed his eyes as he remembered Mac's Dark Quickening. The youth pushed those memories away quickly, though, since that was a subject he prayed to forget every day.

"Well who was the other one?" Conner asked. "The man in the army jacket."

To that, Arthur had no answer. Nor did he know how Mordred had found them.

  
It suddenly hit Richie who might have that answer. Joe.

But he then remembered that this was Paris, not Seacouver, and he didn't even know what time it was for Joe. Though he was sure the Watcher's could help.

And then Richie realized that Joe Dawson wasn't the only Watcher he knew.

"Hey!" Richie said, jumping to his feet. "I think I know a way we can get some answers!"

All eyes, both immortal and Jackie's mortal eyes turned to him.

  
"Yeah." Richie said to himself thinking about it. "I got a friend who can tell us everything we need to know about these guys. He might still be here in Paris."

Arthur was intrigued, but confused. "How would he know?"

"He's a Watcher." Richie said, forgetting that few immortals knew what a Watcher was.

  
"A what?" The British King asked, even more confused.

"A group of historians who record our immortal lives without interfering in the game." Conner explained, then, seeing the surprise looked on Richie's face he added: "Duncan told me."

Richie felt a source of pride in his heart as he realized that Adam Pierson, or Methos as some knew him, would be able to help them out. He had felt bad because it was his stupidity to forget his forced Conner to use Arthur's, and forced Arthur to be defenseless. Now the lad felt he could make up for that mistake.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Morris asked with a hearty laugh. "Take us there Richard!"

----

An hour later the group of Richie, Jackie, Conner, Arthur, Morris, Remus, Robin and Ector had made their way across town to the place Richie last heard Methos lived.

The young immortal gave a knock on the door and waited for a moment. The others had waited for him at the bottom of the stairs, just in case Mordred and the camouflaged immortal were still looking for them. After a moment of waiting the door opened and Richie was face to face with Methos.

  
The eldest immortal of all was standing in a pair of boxers; he held a beer can in one hand and his Ivanhoe in the other. Spotting Richie he lowered the sword.

"Oh good, it's just Richie ruining my good nights sleep."  
  


Richie shook his head. "Listen Adam, can you help us out man?"  
  


Methos sighed, at least the kid had remembered to call him by Pierson's name and not his own. "Us? What happened to MacLeod now? An angry ex-lover or an angry husband of an ex-lover?" Seeing the serious look in Richie's eyes the older immortal sighed and nodded. "Alright, what do you need?"

"Actually, it isn't Mac."   
  
That was a surprise. "Oh, well if Amanda finally convinced you to help her rob every museum in the city then count me out."

Richie shook his head. "Actually it's, well, Conner."

Methos raised an eyebrow. "Oh, the other MacLeod. Well what happened?"

Suddenly they both felt the buzz and heard footsteps. Richie turned around to see Conner and Arthur joining them.

  
"Richard can your friend help us-- You!" Arthur set eyes on Methos and the expression that appeared on his face was one of pure and raw hate.

Suddenly Methos took another drink from his beer can and uttered a few four letter words.

"Great Richie, next time why don't you just bring Kronos back from the dead?"

And then before Richie could ask any questions, Arthur had pushed him out of the way and prepared his broad sword for combat.

----------------------

**Tah-dah!**

Well, not only was that the longest chapter of this story yet, but also I think the best.

A bit violent, but I do have a violence warning up top.

Also, I know that Arthur and Mordred's 6th century speech was probably horrible, but I can't even make them sound like modern day British, much less ancient British. So Gomen nasai I'm working on it.

  
Anyway, first off, just for anyone who isn't a fan of the Arthur legends, Mordred was Arthur's half-son who he had with his half-sister Morgan Le Faye after she used magic to disguise herself.

Anyway, it's true that Mordred wounded Arthur fatally in the end of the legends, at which time the Lady of the Lake (the same one who made Excalibur) took his body to the Isle of Avalon where it is said he is resting until the day when he'll come back to life and become King of Britain once more.

And that bit about his wife, Guinevere running off with Lancelot is true. In fact if you rent the movie "Camelot" with Sean Connery (who besides Arthur also played Ramirez and James Bond) you can see the story of Lancelot and Arthur, as well as Arthur's death at the hands of Mordred. 

It's a LONG movie though, just a warning.  
  
Anyway, another HUGE thanks to Richiefic who proofread this and helped stop me from making a bunch of stupid little mistakes.

But just incase he or I missed any, if you see something that doesn't make sense, please let me know about it in your review.


	4. Old Enemies, New Problems

**Highlander**

**Richie Ryan and the Holy Grail**

**Chapter IV - Old Enemies, New Problems**

**Rated**: PG-13 for Immortal Violence, Profanity, and Mature Situations

**Summary**: While Mac is away, Richie will play! Richie is in charge of the barge but when he gets involved with a beautiful girl, the immortal Arthur, and his age old quest for the Cup of Christ, will Rich bite off more than he can chew? 

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Highlander® or any characters. They are registered Trade Mark™ of George Widen and Davis/Panzer and Rysher. Nor do I own Arthur Penndragon. This story was written strictly out of the fact I enjoy writing and I enjoy watching Highlander®. I am making no money off of this, only reviews.

Storyline, Plot, Jacquelyn Perault© and Aardwolf Ironsmith©, are all my property. Do not steal.

Well, here's Chapter Four. 

----

Arthur attacked quickly with his broad sword, but the five thousand year old man was able to block the attack with easy, well as easy as a half-asleep, half-drunken immortal can.

Richie watched in mute horror as his good idea of going to Methos suddenly turned into a horrible expression of fright. He watched as the regal King and the oldest man in the world battled throughout the living room in the middle of the night. The clang of metal and the swinging of swords was all too common to Richie, but never before, (with the exception of Mac's Dark Quickening) had Richie ever seen too friends right like this.

  
Two friends of his, anyway.

Richie hadn't known Arthur long, but he was sort of dating his daughter, and he thought the ancient King was a good man. Some of Arthur's quirks were annoying, but then again some of Mac's quirks were annoying too.

As for Methos, well Richie didn't know him all that personally, but then again Methos didn't give away his life's secrets very easily. Still, Richie would have hated it if the five thousand year old man lost his head.

  
He had watched Mac kill people who had once been his friends on many occasions. He just never realized how painful it was to watch, until now.

Richie did the only sane thing he could think of: He threw himself between their swords. The Ivanhoe and Excalibur clashed into either of Richie's shoulders, and the youngest immortal in the room gave a very distinctive cry of pain as blood appeared on the now-torn jean jacket he had changed into earlier at the mansion after Mordred had ruined Mac's dinner jacket he had been wearing.

  
Methos stepped backward and Arthur looked mortified. Both of them looked down at Richie with eyes that clearly said only one word: Move.

"Hey, Conner, a little help please?"

Conner shook his head. "You can't interfere in a challenge."  
  


Richie swore very loudly as he felt himself growing weak from the blood loss. He knew he'd wake up, but at the same time he knew by the time he did, there may be a head on the floor and lightning in the air.

"Come on man!"  
  


With a sigh Conner retrieved his katana and lifted it into his hands. He then stepped between Methos and Arthur and looked at both of them; his eyes too said only one word: No. Then Conner turned to Richie and impaled the Katana into the boy's chest. It was obvious he hadn't expected that but he was dead before he could ask any questions.

  
When Richie's eyes next opened he found Methos standing in a corner, still in his boxers, still brandishing his Ivanhoe, and still drinking a beer. Turning to his right he found Arthur standing with the broad sword still in his hand, waiting for Conner to give the okay to fight again.

Conner himself still stood in the middle with his Katana out and ready.

"What the hell was that?" Richie complained.  
  
"It's quicker and less painful than bleeding to death." The Scottish warrior simply said.

Richie then turned to both Methos and Arthur in turn, but then turned back to Methos.  
  
"It never ceases to amaze me how many enemies you have." Richie said, regaining his usual sarcastic tone.

  
"Five thousand years of practice." Methos said simply. To that Arthur quirked a brow but Methos simply shrugged it off. He never did mind telling people who he was when he was sure they were about to lose their head.

"Well?" Richie said turning to them both in turn once again. "What happened?"

"He stole my wife." Arthur said simply.

Richie sighed and nodded. He could see Methos doing that.

"Fifteen hundred years Arthur. And it wasn't my fault anyway, she came on to me." 

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Bloody hell it wasn't. She was Queen!"

Methos shrugged. "She was attractive."

Arthur's grip tightened on his sword but Conner cleared his throat. Normally the former King would have ignored Conner's interference, but Richie was a good lad, and Richie had been there to help him with Mordred, and for that Arthur owed the boy a life debt, and one that he intended to pay back.

"What happened now?" Richie asked as he stretched out his shoulders, as if making sure they had healed.

  
Arthur sighed. "You ever hear of Sir Lancelot?"

Richie nodded, and then all at once he realized what the British King was trying to say. Flabbergasted, Richie turned to Methos. "Him?"

Methos looked offended. "So I'm good enough to be Death on a Horse but not good enough to be Lancelot?"

"I always heard." Conner spoke up. "That Lancelot was the greatest Knight in England; he would fight for any woman's honor."

Methos nodded. "Well I don't know about honor, but I certainty fought for a something only a woman could give me."

Richie sighed. Yeah, when put in those perspectives, he could imagine Methos as Lancelot. And then it came back to him the fact that Arthur's wife in the stories had run off with Lancelot. With a sigh he wondered what the odds were of this.

He figured they were somewhere between the odds of people coming back from the dead unless they loose their head, and the lottery.

Richard had to think fast, but luckily for him, and as it would later go to show lucky for Methos and Arthur as well, Richie had years of practice in thinking quick. But when you're caught sneaking out of your foster home, or caught in the middle of jacking a car, you had to think fast.

And then an idea came to him. He didn't like the idea, but when thinking fast one didn't have many choices.

  
"Hey, Methos?" Richie asked quietly. "Remember when Mac went for my head?"

Methos nodded, he remembered the Dark Quickening of Duncan MacLeod all too well. Mainly because Richie wasn't the only one who had come close to loosing his head. Honestly if it wasn't for Ian MacLeod's Claymore and his own ancient intuition, Methos would be dead.

"Look, Arthur. I know you don't know this story, but Duncan once tried to kill me. I hated him so bad after that. And it hurt to hate Mac, you know? Because he was, no _is_ the closest thing I'll have to a father even if I live to be his age. Well in the end I forgave Mac after a while. It wasn't even two years before I trusted him with my life fully again."

Richie paused and reflected, had it really taken that long? "Anyway, it took me a handful of months to forgive Mac for trying to _kill _me. It's been centuries since you and Methos fought, can't you guys at least try to get along for now?"

Arthur and Methos, while both touched by the story in their own way, were clearly not interested in preaching about forgiveness.

  
"Well if not that, look, Methos, Arthur's got a daughter man. And Arthur, Methos has a --" Richie paused. As the pause dragged on it took some more quick thinking. "Methos is engaged!"

Methos nearly choked on his beer from behind the lad as those words were spoken. He wondered what Richie was playing at.   
  
Richie, however, thought it was a very good idea. "Yeah, yeah. Methos is engaged to . . ." there was a pause as he tried to think of a name. "To . . . Amanda, yeah, Amanda. She's his old girlfriend from a couple centuries."

Methos said nothing as Richie announced that he was "engaged" to Duncan's oldest of flings. 

  
There was a pause, and then at last Arthur spoke. "As much as it would please me to have his head. I won't take it."  
  
"You couldn't." Methos added, but Richie flashed him an angry look and he returned to his beer instead.

"Richard, you saved me in the mansion. For that, I'll spare his life." Arthur spoke those words with some pain. "If he agrees to help us."

Methos had completely forgotten why Richie and the rest had been here until those words were spoken. "Hell I will."

Richie turned around with an upset expression and said through gritted teeth. "Think about Amanda."  
  
Ryan knew that Methos had a sarcastic comment on the tip of his tongue about that, but he also knew Methos enjoyed keeping his head even more than he enjoyed, well, anything, and after a small pause the oldest immortal spoke: "Yes, how could I forget my _fiancé._"

A buzz and footsteps signaled another arrival, and Ector appeared at the doorway. "Is everything alright milo-- Lancelot." He suddenly gasped as his eyes fell on the new face in the group.

"You're looking well Ector, still fat and happy I see." Methos said, of course in the sixth century that was a compliment, though whether it was meant to be sarcasm or polite, Ector did not know.

  
"Everything is fine Ector." Arthur said quietly. "We were just on our way down."

Methos sighed and looked at Richie. He'd go along with this for now. He really had no choice.

"How can I help?"

----

Mordred was in a bad mood. He had Arthur in his grasp after six hundred years of tracking him since their last meeting in Ireland. And what happened? Some punk kid ruined it. After six hundred years of waiting to take the head of Arthur Penndragon, he failed.

Now Mordred and his camouflage jacketed friend were on their way to find Arthur. Of course, there were ways to find him. The car, for one. Arthur's car was still sitting outside his house, and most of the other immortals had taken taxies, but the red Ferrari that had been outside when Mordred had arrived was gone.

  
Of course, after the police left the scene, Mordred and his partner had come back, just in the slim chance they could get something to lead them to Arthur's new location. Apparently Arthur had stayed in the house after the police had come and gone for a few minutes before they left somewhere.

The black Mercedes stopped off at a car dealership, the same car dealership that Richard Ryan had visited earlier in the day when he first met Jacquelyn and became involved in the Grail Quest. Already Mordred had been to four other car lots, and he had no clue that what he was seeking was now in his grasp.

The immortal in the black silk shirt made his way to the office just as a sleepy salesman was closing for the night.

"Sorry sir, come back tomorrow." The salesman said as Mordred and the camouflaged man approached him.

"We just need some information." Mordred said with all politeness.

"Well I'll be happy to give it to you, tomorrow." The salesman said, not polite at all.

"Let me handle this." The man in the camouflage jacket grabbed his machete from his belt with one hand and grabbed the salesman's neck with the other. Bringing the machete down the man's body, its owner let the blade rest on the salesman's crotch.

  
"Tell us what we want or you go home a woman."

With a frightened squeal the salesman began to cower and Mordred simply rolled his eyes. 

  
"Honestly Aardwolf, but you be so melodramatic about everything?"

Aardwolf, as the man in the camouflage jacket was called, just laughed and pressed the machete down harder into the man. "Did you sell a red Ferrari today?"  
  
"Y-yeah." The man whimpered between tears of fear. 

"To who?" Mordred asked.

"A g-g-girl. A girl and some kid."  
  


Aardwolf pressed the knife deeper into the man's groin. "Names."  
  
"Receipt." The man cried. "Let me check the receipt."

Aardwolf raised his machete and allowed the man to unlock the doors of the office and walk back inside. Once there he and Mordred watched as the man checked over a few receipts.

  
"Jacquelyn Perault." The man read his voice still full of fear.

And as he did, Mordred smirked broadly. He knew Arthur was now using the last name of Perault, and therefore he had been right, the girl was his.

  
Aardwolf, however, was more interested in the security camera above the desk.

"Hey." He said turning around. "Let me see the camera."

Fifteen minutes later, after Aardwolf and Mordred had skipped around the security camera's images, they found what they needed. A segment of film showing Richie and Jacquelyn purchasing the car.

"That's the boy." Mordred said the second he saw Richie Ryan's face. "That's the arrogant boy who stopped me."

"Yeah." Aardwolf nodded, he also recognized Richie as the person who had stabbed him through the chest with the katana out in the yard. "Well I think it's time we make a report to the police."  
  
Mordred raised an eyebrow in curiosity, but his partner merely laughed.  
  
"I think the police will be very interested in learning this is the person responsible for the bombing on the Perault Estate earlier today."

----

Hours passed, and the immortals had scattered for the night. It would be much safer, in Arthur's opinion, if they split into groups for the night, and retired to separate hotels. Robin and Morris had departed for a sleazy motel in the bad neighborhood of town, mainly to see if Mordred and his partner could be lying low. Remus and Ector had vanished down to the classiest hotel in town, also looking to see if Mordred was living it up.

Conner had stayed with Methos, who was using his watcher connections to try to locate their enemies. And finally Richie had taken Arthur and Jackie back to the barge. They weren't looking for their enemies; instead they were planning the next move. 

Or really, Arthur was planning the next move, while Richie and Jackie were lying out on the deck of the barge, looking up at the dark silhouette of the sky.   
  
"Thank you Richie." She said quietly as she planted a kiss on his cheek.

  
"You're quite welcome." Richie smiled back. "For what?"

"For saving my father from Mordred."

Richie shrugged. "Personally I was more worried about Methos."  
  
Jackie raised a brow. "Your friend?"

Richie nodded. "I had no clue Methos was your dad's enemy. Should'a guessed, the man has a thousand enemies."

"You're a good problem solver." Jackie said as she leaned her head into Richie's shoulder. Richie just began to laugh. "Did I say something funny?"  
  
"Naw, it's just." Richie smirked once more. "That's the first time I've ever solver this many problems. Usually I create them and Mac has to bail me out."  
  
Jackie nodded. "You've spoken a lot of this Mac; he's a good friend, no?"

"The best." Richie said quietly. "He's helped me a lot. Gave me a home and a job, and taught me how to survive."

Jackie sighed. "It must be hard to be an immortal."  
  


Richie nodded and closed his eyes. "It is."  
  


"Richie?" 

  
"Yeah?"  
  
"How did it happen?"

Richie closed his eyes. He could still see the day he first became what he was as clear as a bell in his mind. He could smell the gunpowder and hear the sound of Tessa's death. He could see and hear more now than he did when it really happened. He still remembered every detail of that night so vividly that it scared him down to his very bone marrow.

And he still missed Tessa.

"I was shot." He said at length.

Jackie said nothing, but he could tell there was something on her mind.

What it was, he never got a chance to ask, because at that moment police sirens were heard in the distance.

  
Police who were on their way to the barge to arrest Richie Ryan, suspected terrorist.

----------------------

**And that, as they say, is that.**

Hmm. Well I hope you all love the cliffhanger, and if you do you'll really love this.

  
Richie, Jackie, Arthur, Methos and Conner will all NOT be in Chapter Five.

But don't fear, because Mac, Amanda and Cory Raines will be.


End file.
